She
by Psychosomatic Addict Insane
Summary: Krillin's obsession with Eighteen takes a strange, borderline stalker turn...infatuation overload possibly? K/18 songfic...with not that many lyrics!


She

Krillin's obsession with Eighteen takes a disturbing turn, infatuation overload? Possibly... songfic (with not much lyrics!)

My first fanfic, I'm new here so go easy on me! Lemme get this straight though, I don't think Krillin is a creep, he's my favourite DBZ character but...this was on my mind for some reason so I just through caution to the wind so to speak and wrote it down! I can only take so much of the lovey-dovey Krillin side (although I love it!) so I made him darker. Enjoy & review.

Disclaimer: I don't own any Dragonball Z characters nor own the rights to it.

_**The blinds wide open so he can**_

_**See you in the dark when you're sleepin'..**_

Krillin watched her. Infact, he always watched her...but this was different. She wasn't [i]aware[/i] he was watching her. Krillin eagerly checked his watch, noting the time was 11:01 PM.

'_She's sleeping, finally...'_

He levitated up to her window and looked at her. So helpless and almost pathetic-like. _Like me._ Except she wasn't gross looking, didn't snore and even in her slumber looked like she just stepped out of a model shoot. This was the only time of the day he could admire her without having something of a sort thrown at him – so he would take that chance. Every night, at 11:01 PM. He'd watch her slowly, carefully...studying her. _Her_ body. God, how he loved that body. He'd fantasize about it every day when he wasn't thinking about other things – other things which pretty much included how much he loved her—would _die _for her anyway. His housemates thought he was stupid, she rejected every advance he ever made towards her, brushed off his crush as "just some dumb thoughts" and belittled whenever the opportunity arised. She'd insult his appearance, his charming personality – pretty much everything about him. He didn't care, he knew deep down—_deep _down—she harboured some feelings, some longing for him...she had to. He let her live here! Some gratitude would be nice.

At this point Krillin was clenching his fist, teeth grinding against each set. Heart palpitations setting in. He was practically pressed up against the window, his ice-cold breath clouding up the window. Just staring at her, that's all. In awe, in frustration, in lust...in anger. _Why doesn't she love me? _In Krillin's case, one of lifes unanswerable questions. _Why would anyone love me? I'm disgusting...I'm not worthy of her...her...with her icy-demeanour...she's a cold-hearted bitch! Why?! Why must I love someone so beautiful she makes me want to serenade her yet so cruel everytime she insults me I just want to...just want to..._ His fingernails clawed against the window, screeching ever-so-silently. He wanted to be there, with her...in that bed, holding her. Caressing her, her neck—_oh _her neck...kissing it, biting it, touching it...hands slowly moving around it, holding...grasping...choking.

He would retreat back to his room at precisely 11:17 PM every night...every night making the same groan, the same croak in his voice that longed for love, for lust, for something... He'd press his ear against the wall and—_oh _yes, there it was. Eighteen's grunts and shuffling around as if she'd heard something. He was quick, he'd never let her catch him; never let her see him stare at her with such longing yet such contempt..._my _thoughts. I'll never let her take them from me.

_**Naked body, fresh out the shower**_

_**You touch yourself after hours...**_

9:05 AM. Time for Eighteen's daily shower. He'd hear the water turn on and was on alert. He stopped whatever task he was doing—Master Roshi was having him do and head up the stairs, making sure he was out the way of prying eyes. He'd stand there, staring at the door, the steam rising up from beneath it and brushing past his face. Slowly he'd grab the door-handle, careful not to disrupt her...turning, turn, turn...small creak, pause. Check to see if she heard. No? Never does. For an "Android" her senses aren't very clear. He'd poke his head through ever-so-slightly. The shower screen was far too steamed to even see any part of her, just her reflection. But he didn't care, he didn't care about the peep show or the fact if Master Roshi or Oolong knew what he got up to they'd praise him for finally learning their ways. He'd stand there, facing more the mirror, not her.. running his hand over the condensation to stare at her through the reflection. _God...she's beautiful..._and oblivious. Yet every day, he got away with it. Never got caught in the act, so to speak. He was glad; he needed this, yearned for it...needed to be near her even if he wasn't allowed to touch her. He'd run his hand down the mirror, over her reflection then slowly, he'd slip out of the room unnoticed. _Always unnoticed...it's only Krillin, guys! No need to notice me..._

_**Ain't no man allowed in your bedroom**_

_**You're sleeping alone in your bed...**_

Atleast, with joy, Krillin noted that he wasn't the only guy to suffer from Eighteen's rejection. Infact, everyone suffered. In one of those nights out with his friends who she oh-so-gladly detested yet was dragged along by Krillin's borderline pathetic puppy-dog-eyes (and his constant bantering about "we made the effort for you, we saved you! Now make the effort for us!" even those that excuse was used 1000 times and ended with Krillin thrown onto the sand and Eighteen saying she'd be down in 10 minutes). She must have been approached atleast 10 times during the night, a number which made Bulma groan in envy and Chi-Chi wolf-whistle each time. The men were lucky if they escaped without something, anything, broken. It was normally the fingers that took the brunt of the attack, especially when they traced them along her shoulder...oh, that crack would stay with him forever. He now knew he'd never-if ever-would touch her without her permission. It made him wonder, though...why was she like this? From the Gero treatment? He wanted to make her better, make her feel like she didn't need to be afraid – however tough she acted, he _knew _she was afraid. In one of her rare moments of truthfulness whilst at the Kame House she turned to Krillin and told him. Almost poured her heart out to him. Then, 5 minutes later when he'd ask her to elaborate she'd close up. _Back to good ole Eighteen, well five minutes is better than nothing. _In the 4 months she lived at the Kame House, after all his hospitality and kindness and love he showed her...she must have only showed him her version of kindness, her vulnerability...twice?

The way back to the house was the worst part of the night, her moaning about his friends, him inviting her along, him gawking at her, him buying her drink for her, him in general, the men approaching her..._When he touched you, I wanted to kill him. I wanted to tell him to back off and tell him you were __**mine**__...but that's not true, is it? _Though he always noted, she was alone. She never brought a man back, infact...she never spoke to another man aside from the cursed comments towards the two perverts. But as they reached the house and entered, something happened...always seemed to happen after they went out. She'd bend down, whisper _thank you_ in his ear without such contempt and give him a peck on the cheek. Once he'd snap out of his daydream, she was gone. Upstairs and back to her room. He'd never know why she thanked him, figured it was for allowing her to mock him without retaliation. Well, that was probably right...or maybe she enjoyed his presence? Maybe...

That's why he kept doing what he did, he'd give himself false hope as if to say _maybe she truly does care...or maybe she's leading me on._ Whatever the answer, he appreciated the embrace and preferred it to be the first option. But truthfully, he didn't care either way what the reason was. Just so she was there, touching him.

And that's the very same reason, why after hours and hours of telling himself he won't do it, he won't go back there again. At 11:01 PM whilst she was fast asleep, he'd always end up outside her bedroom window, watching her...thinking about her. Her motives, if she wanted him or if she loathed the very sight of him. He'd officially lost it, his entire mindset focused solely on her and nothing else. But yet, despite the self-hatred of himself and the part of him that condemned Eighteen (just a small part, infact a small fraction of a part) he couldn't have been any happier. Here.

_**But check your window, he's at your window...**_

**Thanks for reading! Anyways it's only a lil dark so the summary was kinda sucky but oh well, fudge it. Hope you enjoyed & if you wouldn't mind reviewing, that'd be good too. Just to note again, I don't think Krillin is a creep at all! He's awesome the way he is, this was just something I was playing with and decided to let loose so to speak...**


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